The Day After
by Gumi Reloaded
Summary: This is the sequel to Close Encounters of the Combustible Kind. Tokio and Hajime recover from the events of the day before.
1. Chapter 1 Good Morning

**[This story is the sequel to the Gumi Reloaded fic, Close Encounters of the Combustible Kind.]**

**The Day After**

Chapter 1 Good Morning

**Date:** Tuesday, February 7, 2060  
**Time:** Morning to Afternoon  
**Place:** Saitoh Family Residence  
**Characters: **Saitoh, Tokio

**Tokio**

As Tokio slowly came to life after a sound sleep, she was very aware that her feet were actually hot. Reaching down with one hand, she discovered why. Seems that she was wearing wool socks by the way they felt.

Hmmm. She did vaguely remember telling Hajime to come to bed because her feet were cold. At that point the prosecutor startled. Gads! What had she done? The memory of the flashback she'd had about her miscarriage came flowing back to her as cold and clear as a blue winter sky. That incident was painful beyond words, but it had given Hajime back to her in this life…well not entirely, since they were no longer married, but she did know that they had been married back in Meiji 1.

That was the problem. He was no longer her husband; yet in her sleepy state of mind, she'd actually asked him back to bed. She smiled to herself. It was more of their past life coming to the surface. He'd been doing paperwork again in the middle of the night. She realized that she'd acted reflexively, telling him exactly what she used to tell him all those years ago. There was something both comforting and unsettling to have known someone so well, but so many years ago. She knew so little of his present life. But that didn't matter because he was the same person, granted with different experiences, but his values and sensibilities hadn't changed at all.

Speaking of her former husband, yes, she fully accepted this now. Reliving the horrors of her miscarriage in Tonami did that for her. At least she recognized the truth of the past. She could only hope that in the future they would resume the relationship they'd had all those years ago. But would he be able to let go of Yaso? That was the question.

Still thinking about what she now knew to be the truth, she looked around the room. There he was, legs outstretched, hunched over, his tablet beside him. She took a few moments just to gaze at the man. She had always enjoyed watching him sleep. He seemed so much at peace. But he had to be so uncomfortable. She was thankful he'd stayed in the room with her, but she regretted her selfishness, knowing that it cost him much needed, comfortable rest.

This was a bittersweet time for her. She knew what, rather who, she wanted, but could she have him? Only time would tell. As quietly as she could, disregarding her still aching body, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed up behind him as he sat sleeping in the chair. She blushed as she remembered how they used to wake up in the morning. That activity was quite appropriate back then, but it wouldn't be right now. But she couldn't keep away from him.

She lightly put her hands on his shoulders, kissed the crown of his head, whispering, "Good morning, Hajime."

**Saitoh**

Saitoh awoke to the soft groan of bedsprings decompressing.

He stiffened, instantly awake, then relaxed a second later when Tokio slipped, cat-like, out of the guest bed, her little feet muffled by a pair of red toed wool stockings.

Curious as to what was compelling such stealthy behavior from the normally upfront prosecuting attorney, he remained where he was, hunched over in the chair he'd fallen asleep in a few hours earlier after he'd written, reviewed and submitted the first round of paperwork on the hours old car bomb case.

The emails had been flying fast and furious all evening, as forensic teams, explosive experts and violent crimes squadrons mobilized and tried to come up with a reasonable explanation as to how an unknown individual or group had managed to bypass multiple redundant security systems and plant five pounds of compound C4 plastic explosives beneath the car of a DOJ Employee. An equally critical side investigation was also underway to find the killer of the officer who'd volunteered for last night's security detail.

It was nothing short of a debacle, and when all was said and done, someone's head would be missing from their shoulders for allowing such a horrendous lapse in security. Karen had already started reviewing data feeds, hoping against hope that she could find some back up camera that hadn't been taken out by the clearly planned power outage. Uramura had texted to see if everyone was all right and vowed to give his full attention to improving employee security. Saitoh suspected that "full support" would translate into an internal memo and an extra round of drinks at the precinct holiday party, but it was better than nothing and one hell of an improvement on what the previous commissioner would have done.

Interestingly enough, Minato had called and left a voice message, one that was surprisingly emotional, in Saitoh's opinion. (As if the old codger had anything to apologize for…) Saitoh had texted the armory master back, called him an emotionally compromised curmudgeon and reminded him that fussing was most unbecoming for an old soldier who was obviously well on his way to age induced senility.

Already evidence was pouring in and being analyzed and for once, the normal cross-departmental infighting that usually stalled or paralyzed an internal investigation was set aside, since everyone who commuted to the DOJ had a vested interest in figuring out what had gone wrong, lest they face a similar fate. The understandable desire not to be blown up in a moderately priced four door could be a great motivator, Saitoh decided, as Tokio crept up behind him on her tip toes. He felt her hands settle softly on his shoulders. A second later, she bent and gently kissed the top of his head.

_"Good morning, Hajime."_

Recalling her breathy, half-asleep entreaties for him to come to bed, Saitoh decided that a bit of early morning revenge was in order and remained hunched over in the chair as if he was still sound asleep. He wanted to see what lengths she would go to in order to wake him, but more importantly, he needed to feel out her emotional state this morning, to make sure that she was no longer emotionally overwhelmed and distraught.

**Tokio**

Hm. Now that was interesting, she thought to herself. The mere touch on his shoulders should have wakened him, as would the kiss she'd gently planted on top of his head, not to mention both the sound of her slipping out of bed and her verbal greeting. She'd been married to this man for over 40 years, and in all those years he was a light sleeper, a very light sleeper. She doubted that an almost a 200 year time difference would have changed that.

So that is how he wanted to play, was it? Her former husband did have a sense of humor, and she was sure that he was exercising it right now. Two could participate in little games. The one they'd played almost every morning of their married life came rushing back to her. If she were still married to him, that one would be a definite possibility, but she wasn't, so it wasn't, at least not yet.

What to do she pondered, hands still resting gently on his shoulders. What to do. Slowly her hands slid in towards the base of his neck, stopping there to let her fingers gently work the muscles in an attempt to relax them. They felt like a bunch of knots. No wonder by the way he was hunched over. Sleeping in the chair in such an uncomfortable position was probably doing a number on his lower back, too. In addition, he had to be as stiff and sore as she was this morning due to being flung across the garage and slammed onto its concrete floor.

Eventually, her hands wandered up his neck, her fingers lacing through his very soft hair. So, she hadn't imagined that yesterday. His hair was soft. Events in the parking garage around the time of the bombing were still a bit fuzzy. She startled slightly when she remembered that his hair felt no different than it had during their marriage.

Her finger tips lightly brushed his scalp, sometimes just feathering over it, other times stopping to make little circular patterns. She took in a breath, tensing slightly, wondering just how much he was going to let her get away with before he made his move. Smiling, she bit her lower lip, contemplating if she should do what she was thinking, hoping he wouldn't be upset with her. Words from long ago, 'Tokio, you are a wicked, wicked woman,' rang in her ears.

Sliding her hands back down to his outer shoulders, she dipped her head to where his shoulder met the base of his neck, making sure the spot she chose would be well covered by the collar of his uniform shirt. Her lips gently locked onto a warm piece of his skin, tenderly drawing it into her mouth for a few seconds before letting it go, and then giving the spot a quick kiss. She hoped that the resulting mark would be inconspicuous. If not, well, she was probably in trouble…again.

**Saitoh**

Breath catching sharply in the back of his throat when he felt Tokio's lips brush up against the warm skin of his neck, Saitoh decided that perhaps he'd underestimated his opponent in this early morning skirmish. Already, he was on the defensive. Bare toes digging into the carpet, he fought against the natural instinct to groan, the raw recoil of pleasure nearly too much to process.

He'd thought to surprise her, to pay her back for unknowingly tempting him.

This morning her intentions were anything but sleepy and accidental, but as deliberate and well executed as a carefully planned police intercept and Saitoh knew that he was seconds away from being read his rights.

Unerringly, she honed into the sensitive juncture between his neck and shoulder, as if she knew exactly where and how he wanted to be touched, and kissed him, open mouthed.

Heat collided violently with pressure and met, coiling hard at the base of his spine as she sucked softly, drawing a small expanse of skin into her mouth and against her hot, wet tongue. He did make a sound then, a harsh moan escaping from tightly clenched teeth. Dammit to hell and back, it couldn't be helped, not after three years and the span of several lifetimes being apart.

She kissed him again and tried to withdraw. Did she think this was over - that he'd silently capitulate after such a sensual barrage? He opened his eyes and glared hotly at her, not even bothering to bank his emotions. Perhaps sensing that he intended to up the ante, she stiffened and tried to take a step back, but it was too late. Between one thundering heartbeat and the next, she was caught, pulled into an embrace that was ferociously possessive, her narrow waist spanned by two calloused but very careful hands.

"Just where do you think you're going?" he growled, drawing her up into the chair with him, so she was facing him, her long flannel pajama clad legs straddling his muscular thighs. It was a tight, but not uncomfortable fit. One of his hands snaked up, finding purchase in her long black hair; the other arm was around her waist, urging her closer.

Brushing her hair back, Saitoh eyed the white, exposed column of her neck with covetous, narrowed eyes, then leaned forward and kissed her softly behind one ear. She sighed. He smiled wickedly and made a motion as if he was going to kiss her again, but caught her ear lobe between his teeth instead and gave it a little nip. She gasped sharply then shuddered and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could feel the tremors move down her back and thighs and was determined to feel more than that by the time he was done teaching her a lesson.

Determined to regain lost territory, he greedily laid siege to her ear, nipping it again and then flicking the soft curvature with his tongue. She shivered and leaned closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. This of course, nearly derailed his retaliatory campaign for the second time that morning. Even sports bra bound, they were profoundly distracting weapons in a devastating feminine arsenal that Saitoh suspected was outlawed under the terms of The Geneva Convention.

"Someone woke up on the right side of the bed," he drawled as he kissed her neck, delighting in the soft, breathy little sounds she was making as he rasped a canine over her pulse point. The tears, sorrow and confusion from last night seemed to be a distant memory. The woman in his arms was confident and not afraid to put her hands and mouth on him, a very welcome development.

"Why is that, I wonder?" He demanded softly, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. The first brush of his lips against hers was soft, the contact light. The second pass was more demanding. She opened her mouth, perhaps with the intent to answer his question. Saitoh, fully on the offensive now, seized the opportunity and intercepted by kissing her soundly, his tongue and lips making any meaningful dialogue a logistical impossibility.

**Tokio**

'Gottcha,' she smiled to herself as he let out a harsh moan, quite pleased that she could still elicit that response from him even after all the years apart .

The hot glare he gave her as soon as he opened his eyes held a meaning of its own. O…oh…she was in trouble, trouble of the best kind. Fortunately for her, there was no way to escape it when her wolf was involved. All she saw in that amber gaze of his was a promise first made so many years ago that he would give her back as good as she gave him. A little shiver of anticipation slithered down her spine, as she tried to pull away to no avail.

His voice took on that old familiar growling tone that she knew so well.

_"Just where do you think you're going?"  
_  
Nowhere, she said to herself, absolutely no where. There was no where she would rather be and no one she would rather be with.

In less than the time of a heartbeat she was straddling his lap, gently held in strong arms. By the careful way he handled her she knew he realized that she was still stiff and sore from what happened in the parking garage. He had to be hurting, too, and not just from yesterday. Hadn't he been shot in the thigh at the café? That injury still had to be sensitive and her position on his lap probably wasn't helping. She would try to sit still, if she could manage.

He pulled her closer, one hand in her hair, the other around her waist, kissing her in the sensitive spot he knew resided behind her ear. It was just like in the past. Instead of kissing her again, as she thought, he nipped her ear lobe, hard enough to make her gasp and grab him around the neck, just to let her know that it was his turn to be wicked, wicked Hajime. She would love every minute of it.

It was pure torture of the most pleasant kind as he continued his assault on her ear. She was sure that any female prisoner would gladly reveal all her secrets if he used this sort of interrogation technique. All she could do was press herself closer to him and hang on for the rollercoaster ride he was providing her.

_"Someone woke up on the right side of the bed… Why is that, I wonder?"_

His ministrations were less ferocious after posing his question, but no less enticing. Kissing her neck once more, he then turned his attention to her mouth, causing a flutter in her stomach. She had missed him so much. His kiss was soft at first, as a prelude to what she was sure would follow.

She opened her mouth slightly, tempted to answer him before realizing the idiocy of that idea, especially when she had him right where she wanted him. Inadvertently, she had given him an opening of which he took full advantage, being the predator that he was. She never minded being his prey and answered his more demanding contact with an intensity of her own that spoke of long buried desires, her fingers reaching to tangle in his soft hair. The man's mouth was incredible. She was glad that the centuries hadn't changed that. With a sigh she parted from him, sitting up, just gazing into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts. The physical desire was still there, but would there be another lifetime commitment from him?

The man was correct as usual. Tokio leaned back to him momentarily, giving him a soft kiss on his mouth before answering, "You always could read me so well, Hajime." She loved the way his name flowed from her lips in a familiar caress. The attorney beamed at her former husband. He was right, she did get out of the bed on the right side this morning, the familiar way he talked to her just made her feel even better. She was happy, joyfully so.

The last two days had been stressful beyond belief, but she would do it all over again in a heartbeat, because the end result was the recognition that she had a past life, a very wonderful past life as Hajime's wife.

"I remember the past. I know without a doubt that we were married in Meiji 1; I'm not confused about that any longer."

She couldn't help but kiss the man, again, this time long and deep. It was as simple as that. She wasn't plagued by random images any longer. They were merely memories of a long forgotten past.

It was far too early in their renewed acquaintance to know whether their relationship would ever be fully restored. Neither of them was married, now, nor were they in any sort of relationship with another person. That was something positive. She had a feeling that she would never marry, unless it was to this man. If he didn't want that, she would stay by his side, being the best friend a man could ever have.

Breaking away from his lips, she smiled at him, a grateful look in her gray eyes, "You remembered that I could never sleep when my feet were cold," she told him, wiggling her toes in the red-toed wool socks. "Thanks for taking care of me last night. I wish I could have returned the favor, but I was too beat up. I imagine that you were, too, but you were always the stronger one," she told him, tenderly, her voice laced with emotion, memories of a sad, cold Tonami night replaying in her mind.

**Saitoh**

"_You always could read me so well, Hajime." _

That tone, the familiar, intimate way she said his name …

Like a hunter that was closing in on his quarry, Saitoh leaned forward a little in the chair, the muscles in this thighs and arms coiling with a sudden, hungry sort of anticipation. Tokio was speaking in past tense terms, not present or future, to describe his ability to read her like a well written forensics report, a grammatical preference that Saitoh suspected was anything but accidental.

_"I remember the past. I know without a doubt that we were married in Meiji 1; I'm not confused about that any longer." _

"Is that a fact?" Saitoh casually asked as he deliberately caressed her cheek and jaw, his fingers sliding down along the graceful line of her neck, until the calloused pads of his fingers slipped barely beneath the neckline of his worn, black t-shirt she'd slept in and softly stroked the pale skin that covered her delicate clavicle.

Well kissed lips upturned, Tokio looked directly at him, her storm colored eyes shining with a breathtaking mixture of joy, sincerity and self-awareness and nodded.

"Took you long enough," Saitoh taunted the attorney, rolling his eyes as if she was some sort of dawdler who'd taken her sweet time figuring out who she really was to him.

Her retaliation to his teasing was incendiary, the sweet heated taste of her open mouth and hot tongue as it pushed past his lips, searing him to the bone. She was burning him, her desire scouring clean the dark, scarred shadows in his heart and mind.

(I found you…)

Saitoh growled possessively and pulled her against him. Hands on her hips, fingers splayed hard against her ass, his kisses were ravenous, hard and demanding, and revealing as nothing else could, how deeply he had been affected by her admission, how deeply he wanted this woman who had been…and by damn would once again be…his wife.

(You found me…)

Slowly, the tone of the embrace became less heated and hard, the moans amid tangled tongues and mouths softened became almost tender. A reunion, centuries delayed, played out quietly in the spare bedroom.

_"You remembered that I could never sleep when my feet were cold…"_

Saitoh nodded. He remembered this and many other aspects of the woman in his arms.

She wiggled her sock covered toes, eliciting a rare, quiet laugh from him.

"You're a reprehensible tease, " he growled as he leaned forward in the chair, nipping and then kissing her partially exposed shoulder.

And then she thanked him for caring for her the night before, apologizing that she'd been unable to reciprocate.

"Moron," muttered softly, the soft kisses he placed on her bare skin taking the sting out of the rebuke. "You were there at the cafe, weren't you?" When he'd been burnt and bleeding to death, she'd ruthlessly blown a man's brains out, then pulled smoking armor from his body, bandaged his wounds and held him against her.

Gently, Saitoh put one hand on her lower stomach, over her womb. That loss, the death of their firstborn had haunted the Tokio of his memory for the rest of her life. He'd been unable to ever find a way to assuage her grief and guilt. Perhaps in this life, he would do better. Perspective after all, had its advantages.

"There was another time, when you cared for me thusly," he pointed out, appealing to her logical mind, "I somehow managed to make it home after a terrible battle, but fell from my horse at our gate, the injuries to my legs too severe to allow me to stay in the saddle. You ran out and somehow managed to help carry me into the house before I passed out from fever and blood loss."

Infection had set in the deep lacerations that crisscrossed his thighs. Even now, he could recall the pungent scent of infection, smoke and dried blood and remember the choking, gasping sound he'd made when she had to clean out and then cauterize the necrotic skin. Fighting against an unseen adversary, his wife had refused to give up, despite the harrowing odds.

"I would have died without your care, Tokio," he said seriously, not one to speak lightly of such things. "Then and now." Annoyed that she so easily discounted her worth, he lightly flicked her forehead with his finger. "So quit fussing. It's terribly unbecoming."

Saitoh gave her a sly, wicked smile, and added, "You know, there are better things that you can do with that mouth of yours rather than apologizing…." He leaned over and gave her a thoughtful, thorough demonstration of what he had in mind.

**Tokio**

When she apologized that she'd been in no shape to care for him last night, he rebuked her in that gentle way of his that was reserved for her alone, before reminding her that she'd been in the café right when he'd needed her. She was sure that no one else on this earth, who had earned a reprimand from him, would be granted such a tempered tone of voice.

The attorney smiled. Their married life had been one of reciprocity, each helping the other as best they could during their individual times of need. Tokio couldn't help but remember the grief she'd felt as he'd taken his last breath wrapped in her arms. All lives must come to an end; theirs in the first Meiji era was no different. But when his allotted time was over, both of them had lived very full and rewarding lives. Her last five years were spent in Tsutomu's household, doting on all of her grandchildren, and helping her daughter-in-law, Midori, as best she could. But she didn't go a day without out missing Hajime, terribly so. The attorney had no idea what caused the current reunion between the two of them, but whatever it was, she was beyond grateful that it happened.

His soft kisses on her bare shoulder were distracting her in the best of ways. Tokio's seemingly calm and cheerful demeanor when she woke this morning was only a result of having come to terms with the fact that she and Hajime were married in the past. The joy she felt at finding him, and knowing that what he told her was true, helped her suppress the stress she still felt because of the two attempts on her life. In the past he had been her rock, supporting her through life's traumas. It was no different now. Even though he was no longer her husband, she still needed his solid, steady support to keep her emotions in check and on an even keel. She felt better both physically and emotionally, but she was far from being healed.

As if he read her mind, he covered her stomach with his warm hand. Reflexively, she responded by resting both of hers on his. His gesture told her that he had also relived that sad event in Tonami, just as she had. He knew it was a burden that she carried with her throughout her lifetime. But it was that memory that jerked her into believing and accepting their shared past. Perhaps in this life he could help her overcome the guilt she still felt about what happened on a winter day all those years ago.

Then he reminded her of a time in the past when she had been the one to save his life. As he recounted the events, ones that she also now remembered quite clearly, she laid her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Closing her eyes, she pressed herself closer to him, clinging to him as images assaulted her. She had almost lost him that time. But she fought for him, not giving up, regardless of how it hurt her to cause him such pain. But if she hadn't cleaned and cauterized those wounds, he would surely have died.

Hearing a horse in the courtyard, she'd come running out of the house to find Hajime on the ground near their front gate, bleeding, unable to move. He smelled like smoke, every inch of him covered in soot. It was only the adrenaline rush that enabled her to drag him into the house and peel off what was left of his tattered clothing. At that point she was sure that life as a member of the Tokyo MPD was far more dangerous than being a Shinsengumi captain.

The wounds to his thighs were so terribly infected that she'd gagged at the smell. It was all she could do to keep from getting sick when she thoroughly cleaned them, getting out every spec of dead and infected flesh. She'd then taken her tanto, the one he'd given her on their wedding day, heated it in the kitchen fire and applied it to each wound in turn, searing away any remnants of infection and sealing off the bleeding. In her memory the sounds he'd made in response to the agonizing pain were as clear as they were that day. Each time she caused him pain, she felt like she was stabbing herself.

In retrospect the symbolism of using the tanto he'd given her did not escape her. He'd given it to her to use to save her life...but she'd used it to save his...and back then he was her life, her whole life.

It was only the light flick of his finger on her forehead and his command to quit fussing that brought her mind back to the present, snapping her out of her gruesome memories, and back to more pleasant pursuits.

_"You know, there are better things that you can do with that mouth of yours rather than apologizing…."_

He was right of course. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, so thankful that he'd survived his life threatening ordeals in both the present and past eras. He then proceeded to give her a demonstration of exactly what he had in mind.

It was as if he knew that she'd relived another trauma from their past, because he gently kissed the top of her head and her forehead, before tenderly capturing her mouth, caressing it lightly with his own. She knew he was trying to sooth her, using his lips to coax her away from her unsettling thoughts. As her husband, he always knew what she needed, and she was glad that his sense of that had not changed one bit over the centuries.

She slipped her hands around his neck again, her fingers moving to play with his hair as she sweetly responded to him, for the moment letting go of all that was troubling her. His hands were around her, resting on her back just above her waist. Shifting in his lap, as she continued to kiss him, she supposed that she should exercise a bit of restraint since they were no longer married. But she didn't want to. She wanted to recapture what they had together all those years ago. She felt his calloused hands under her t-shirt, gently massaging her lower back, leaving little tendrils of heat in their wake. Slow and deliberate, intense and passionate. There was no other way to describe the way he possessed her mouth.

**Saitoh**

Tokio sighed and kissed him softly.

Muscles that had become tense with memory slowly began to relax beneath his hands.

While he'd brought up the example of her attending to a life threatening injury to illustrate that she was as strong and capable as any man, based on her sobering reaction, he suspected her thoughts had centered on the fact he'd suffered as a result of her ministrations. Saitoh idly wondered how she'd respond if he told her that the memory of her ruthlessly cutting away skin and muscle and using the fire heated tanto he'd given her on their wedding day as a weapon against infection, was one of his favorite recollections of their past life together.

(Best wait for that particular bit of disclosure…) he smirked, his mouth twisting into an ironic curve as he kissed her.

Yes, it was best to focus on the rather appealing task at hand. His plan to distract her, rather hastily implemented when he'd watched the joy and contentment in her eyes become dim with remembered suffering, was slowly but surely soothing the woman, who despite her ferocity in a courtroom, was in possession of a very tender heart. And while he normally had little patience for people afflicted with such a coronary condition, for her, he was willing to make an exception to his usual modus operandi and not only tolerate her tender ways, but quietly encourage and cultivate her penchant for kindness.

He wanted her to retain this emotional skill set, not because of personal preference (though he vastly preferred someone with Tokio's pleasant temperament to that of a 24 carat bitch like his sister) but for the sake of two little boys, who desperately needed to experience the comfort that could only come from a loving and openly affectionate parent. There was far too little laughter and happiness in his home, and despite his concerted efforts to be better; he was not by any stretch of anyone's imagination, a warm and demonstrative man.

He was, however, very patient.

Or was trying to be…

Saitoh's breath caught in the back of his throat when Tokio ardently embraced him, her narrow hips rocking slightly into his. He swore, the coarse exclamation muffled by her mouth and then pulled her tightly against his body.

Wicked. She was wicked; he told her this in between kisses as his body threatened mutiny against his self-imposed restraint. Eyes burning with need, he caught her unrepentant bottom lip with his teeth and bit down softly on the velvety soft skin. When she gasped with surprise, he plunged his tongue into the hot, welcome wetness of her mouth in a gesture that was unmistakably carnal and undeniably possessive.

(Mine)

No man had ever touched her like this. No man ever would. In this aspect, the modern day would mirror the past. He'd first take the arms, and then the life of anyone who dared try.

Tokio moaned against his mouth, the raw need in her voice as sexy a sound as he'd ever heard, and tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt. His hands thought that this was a terribly brilliant, long-overdue idea and moved to make the same motion, albeit in the opposite direction towards the annoying faded flannel barrier of her pajama bottoms.

**RING RING RING**

Saitoh's shirt was halfway off before he realized that the loud ringing sound in his ears, was not in fact, the rapid movement of all the blood in his brain down to another more southern region of his anatomy.

**RING RING RING**

Saitoh swore and reached for his phone that was on the desk. It was 5:25 in the morning. Someone had either died, or was going to.

**5:47 AM Saitoh Residence (Garage)**

Someone was going to die all right.

Saitoh balefully stared at the steering wheel of his sedan.

Not one to pray for patience, courage or fortitude (those attributes came without any divine intervention, thank you very much) Saitoh was muttering a profanity laden benediction, one where he beseeched whatever God listened to the prayers of ill-tempered police officers with murder on their minds, for the good sense to hide bodies of two morons who were seriously overdue for a reunion with their creators.

Umagoe's intercept was scheduled to begin at 7:00 AM. Saitoh knew it was no coincidence that the twit had waited to begin the intercept until all of the major news stations had begun live morning coverage. The fact that his boss, Sr. Superintendent Uramura, had weakly caved in to the young captain's demands that the raid on the suspect from the Sunshine Café be covered by the press put him in equally bad standing on Saitoh's Shit List. ©

Saitoh pressed the button that opened the garage door. Being winter, it was still quite dark outside. Most people were in bed. HE wanted to be in bed. He wanted to be in bed (or in a chair, or on the floor, or against the wall – he wasn't picky) with the woman that he was leaving behind this morning.

Duty called however, and he was compelled to answer.

Her response to the early morning call had been encouraging. No grumping, or questioning, she'd accepted that he had to leave. He glanced down at the thermos of coffee she'd prepared for him while he took a quick (and very cold) shower. He wasn't sure what he appreciated more, the strong, black coffee that she'd made, or the kiss and sweet good-bye that had accompanied it.

Saitoh backed out of the garage, then closed it and re-entered the security codes so that Tokio remained safe and secure while he was gone. Despite her rather frisky behavior this morning, he knew that she was in pain, struggling to make sense of the attacks and that she needed rest before trying to return to work. He needed to inspect her office and make sure it was safe before she set foot inside it.

Not looking forward to having to watch the televised intercept in Uramura's overstuffed office for a fucking minute more than he had to, Saitoh pulled out of the driveway and headed back towards the chaos that was New Meiji.

**To follow the action for Saitoh Hajime, please read the Gumi Reloaded fic, New Meiji Metropolitan PD Press Conference. The next chapters in this current story, The Day After, describe Tokio's thoughts and activities while Hajime is away at work.**

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	2. Chapter 2 Reflection and Realities

**Chapter 2: Reflection and Realities**

**Part 1 Reflections**

Tokio smiled, her mind replaying very pleasant memories from early this morning. In the middle of celebrating being reunited in this era, Hajime was called into work. She knew he had no choice but to go, regardless of how much he wanted to stay with her, and the attorney had no doubt about exactly how much he'd wanted to stay. But it was duty first for both of them; the era didn't matter. It was the same now, as it was then.

In the past no matter how hard it was to see him go on his missions, Tokio always put on a good face, and this morning was no different, even though he was just leaving to go into work early, and not on a month's long mission to take out someone like that burn victim, who had delusions of grandeur, as happened during Meiji 1. She was still so beat up from yesterday that she crawled back into bed after giving him a properly passionate send off. While he was in the shower, she even made him a thermos full of hot, strong, black coffee. After an exhausting twelve hours, she was sure he would need it.

The attorney suspected that her former husband had very little sleep, between watching over her, and doing that infernal paperwork that seemed to follow him from one century to the next. There were vague memories from last night when she saw him sitting at the small desk, working. Aroused from a fitful sleep, she'd asked him if he was coming to bed, and told him that his paperwork would still be there in the morning. It was as if she was repeating a familiar, oft occurring event from another time and place. She had to be, since she wasn't accustomed to inviting men into her bed. Tokio really couldn't think of him as a stranger, not any longer. They had too much of a shared past, most of which she was beginning to remember quite clearly. In private she would not address him by anything other than his given name, Hajime. To do otherwise would be to deny what transpired between them so many years ago.

Tokio supposed that it was probably for the best that he'd had to leave. Things were heating up quite fast between the two of them, now that she recognized him as her former husband. She realized that since she was no longer married to the man, there was only so far that she would allow things to progress in the physical arena, no matter how much she wanted him. She did want him, but not just because they got caught up in the heat of the moment. This morning she was so overjoyed at finding him, she hadn't even tried to put on the brakes. If it hadn't been for his phone ringing, she wondered just how far their reunion would have gone. Since she'd almost succeeded in removing his shirt, it didn't take much to know the answer to that question. In her mind…when it was logically functional…and she knew that it hadn't been functioning several hours ago… commitments needed to be seriously considered. If she gave herself to him, fully, at this point, and he was not, for whatever reason, willing to marry again, she would be devastated. There was no way she would set herself up for a lifetime of heartache.

She was now confident that it was severe stress or trauma that triggered her mind to release long hidden events from her past life. Beginning with the massacre in the diner, it seemed to have come to a head last night in the parking garage where Hajime's quick thinking had once again saved her life. The brush with death in the car bombing caused clear memories to surface, the worst being the wrenching loss of their first baby when they lived in impossibly harsh conditions in Tonami. After reliving the painful birth Tokio needed no further convincing that she'd been the Captain's wife during the first Meiji era, nearly two hundred years ago.

She felt like she should be in her office today. She needed to be in her office. There was too much to do with the Umagoe Fujimori fiasco and the latest attempt on her life. But she also knew that she needed to stay alive for her former husband. Her intuition told her that he would need her, perhaps even more than he had needed her nearly 200 years ago, during their first life together. She also knew that she would not be safe apart from him until whomever put the hit on her was apprehended, or until she had a safe place of her own to stay. With Saitoh's responsibilities he couldn't be with her on a continuous basis, no matter how much she wanted that. For now she would just have to sit tight, here in his house, until he thought it was safe for her to be out on the streets again. One thing she knew, she never had, and never would question his judgment in serious matters.

She did feel completely safe in his home. This place was probably the safest place to be in the whole New Meiji area. It had security systems up the kazoo, and they were the latest technology. If anyone even breeched the perimeter of the yard, Saitoh, himself, would be notified immediately. Views from all the security cameras were on the monitor sitting on the little table at the end of the sofa where she could keep an eye on them. She wasn't wearing her body armor, because he had taken it to be repaired, but she did have her new side arm in her shoulder holster, prepared for whatever might come.

Hajime called her a couple of hours after he left and told her to turn on one of the news channels, letting her know that there was going to be a press conference that she needed to see. During the call, her former husband also told her that her office was secure and that he had a "quick chat" with her secretary on the merits of confidentiality and taking care to notify him directly if there were any strange packages, letters, etc. that came addressed to Tokio, or any strange people asking about her. The attorney detected weariness in his voice that spoke of more than just physical tiredness. If she had her way, he'd be tucked in his bed right now, catching up on much needed sleep. That thought caused a memory flash of her backside snuggled against his front, as they tried to keep warm under a pile of comforters on a cold Tokyo night.

Sitting curled up on his couch, cold therapy bands on her right shoulder and knee, eyes focused on the large screen across the room, she'd unconsciously grabbed a small pillow, holding it tightly to her chest with one arm. It smelled of his cigarettes. She flipped through the channels with the remote she held in her other hand, waiting for the press conference to begin, taking in all the news clips about the latest police department debacle, and the garage bombing, but not really paying close attention to any of them.

Her body still ached everywhere. She'd only been able to forget the pain she was feeling when he gave her that great greeting after she tried to sneak up on him this morning. She knew he was a light sleeper, but it was still fun to pretend to be a cat quietly trying to surprise a wolf, and he had indulged her, letting her play her little game and then giving her quite the payback.

Now that she knew the truth about her past, there was so much that needed sorting out. Her lawyer's mind couldn't help but wander through the possibilities and meanings of all that had happened in a mere 40 hours.

Tokio was joyful beyond words at being reunited with her former husband. She knew that she had loved him in the past; he meant more to her then, than her own life, which she would have given up, willingly, to protect him. Question was, could she love him like that again? It didn't take more than a second or two of reflection for Tokio to realize that she had never stopped loving him, that the reason she refused to engage in serious relationships was that she was waiting to find someone. It dawned on her that she was waiting for Hajime. Now that she had him in her life again, she could not bear the thought of letting him go.

But was she willing to risk his life and the lives of his children? Her job was dangerous; in only a matter of days there were two violent attempts on her life. If she became part of this family…not that he would ask her …could she in good conscience put them in danger? No, she couldn't. The corruptive forces she was trying to expose had no reservations about killing a person's family. All she needed to do was to remind herself what happened to her predecessor, Fujita Hiroshi, and his family. But didn't she have this same discussion with Hajime last night? It was hard to remember exactly what they had talked about on the way home; she was so shell-shocked at the time. 'Yes, moron, you did,' her fuzzy brain screamed at her, 'and he resolutely dismissed your fears'.

It was obvious to her that Hajime loved Yaso very much. The woman's death had nearly torn him apart. The fact that he tried to literally drink himself into the grave spoke volumes. He held himself totally responsible for what Yaso suffered. There was no way Oharu, her secretary, could have known that revealing the information about Saitoh's family to Tokio would be so important. It was knowledge that was imperative for Tokio to have if she was going to understand the man as he was in the current era.

Could Hajime love her as much as he had loved Yaso? Tokio had no desire to compete with the memory of a dead woman. She wanted to be loved for who she was, not whose shoes she would fill if she became a part of the Saitoh family. But that was jumping the gun. They may have been husband and wife two hundred years ago, but could he love her again like he had so many years before? Tears welled in her eyes at the prospect that maybe he wouldn't. His actions this morning clearly said he could, but one intense kissing session was a long way from a marriage proposal, and Tokio knew it.

Currently, his desire was to protect her, perhaps as his duty to a former spouse, or as his obligation as an officer of the law to see to the safety of DOJ employees. But the way he'd kissed her, several times on the lips yesterday, and then this morning before his phone rang, interrupting them, had to mean something, didn't it? Maybe this morning it was just an automatic reaction because he was pleased that she finally believed what he told her about being his wife long ago.

Regardless of how their future ultimately played out, somehow Tokio knew that he would always be her friend, watching over her and keeping her safe as best he could. She just hoped that should he remarry someone else, she would be strong enough to hold herself together and accept it. There would be a lot of tears shed on her part; that was something she knew already. For some reason, the thought of him with another woman was unbearable to her.

But what if he did want her again? She was so inexperienced. But when she first married him, she must have been the same way. That marriage was arranged. They did have 3 children together, so she must have overcome her shyness back then. She sure seemed to overcome any shyness she might have had this morning. She already felt attracted to him, very much so, too much so for her own good. She couldn't keep her hands off of him at the diner, or in the armory and firing range, or this morning. After all, she was the one who started all this kissing business by thanking him with a peck on the cheek after target practice yesterday, and then angling for another one right before her car blew.

The attorney didn't even want to think about what happened this morning…ah well, she really did want to think about it, but she dared not read too much into it, because those kisses were probably due to several things…the joy that both of them felt at surviving the bombing… finding each other after so many years apart…the heat of the moment. When she woke this morning, she felt so good to be alive, and to know without doubt that Hajime had been her husband, that she felt like celebrating with him. She should be embarrassed for being so forward, but she couldn't help her behavior. It felt too natural, too normal to be wrong.

She had to be an idiot to try to analyze his attentions in an attempt to determine what it all meant. But that was exactly what her logical lawyer's mind was doing. She was old enough to know that some things had no logic, no matter how hard one tried to apply that concept. Hajime had already given her more kisses than she could count. Granted, most of them, except for that last, long, fire-blazing session… first thing this morning…had been light, almost chaste, but a kiss was still a kiss none the less. The first one could just have been in response to the emotional nature of the moment down in the firing range when she told him she knew about his problem with alcohol, and they'd shared aspects from their former lives that came to mind. She felt stupid when she realized how she was picking apart every little detail in an attempt to gauge the extent of his feelings for her.

All of their physical contact, as limited as it actually was, seemed so 'right' that she didn't give it a second thought. He also told her yesterday that he wouldn't push her for more than she was willing to give. It finally occurred to her, that he must have been talking about marital intimacy. She was slow picking up on that, wasn't she? But did that frighten her? No, not really. It was something she wouldn't engage in, ever, unless she was married. She didn't even know if he would want to remarry her, so at this point, there was no sense in worrying about whether she could measure up to his late wife in that way.

To fully understand him now, all she needed to do was to find a key to completely unlock the past, because somehow, she knew that she had understood him then, better than anyone else ever had, except maybe his friend, Okita, that little voice reminded her.

**Part 2 Realities**

Tokio looked at the time on the bottom corner of the screen. The press conference would start soon, and she didn't want to miss a minute of it. She knew in her heart that Hajime would be fine, if he participated in it, but she needed to watch it to reassure herself of that fact. She shook her head. She was acting the part of either a protective mother hen, or a worried wife, neither one was very becoming of a woman who had confidence in the ability of the man she loved. The man she loved? Yes, she admitted it to herself for the second time today; she did love him, she had never stopped. She just hadn't recognized that until this morning.

The prosecutor knew that to get the unedited version of the press conference she would have to sign into VPN, the virtual proxy network, which all DOJ employees could access. All she needed to do was to use the keypad on his remote to log in. She quickly punched in the site address, her access code, and pressed her thumb on the appropriate spot on the keypad for an ID scan. The screen went black then switched to a message with a timer counting down to the live feed for the press conference.

When the monitor finally flicked to life, showing members of the police department filing into a very crowded room, the attorney couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Uramura was first, followed by Hajime. That was a bit strange. Why was the captain of the Third Squadron walking in immediately after the head of NMMPD?

The sounds of grief could be heard in the background. Had to be the relatives and friends of the slain second unit. Tokio wasn't surprised due to the preliminary reports she'd read this morning as part of her DOJ briefing. She had logged into the secure, prosecutors only, update pages right after Hajime called her. She was sure that Uramura would do everything he could to shirk all responsibility for what happened in that storage room. Umagoe Fujimori had been a glory hungry idiot. In Tokio's opinion the person who put him in the position of captain deserved to be prosecuted for treason against the people.

_"Today's conference will be conducted by the new Superintendent of our Criminal Investigations Department. Major Saitoh Hajime has been tasked with leading this investigation…"_

Major Saitoh Hajime? Tokio gasped. Hajime had been promoted to Superintendent of Criminal Investigations. Her countenance took on a grim look, knowing that the powers that be were going to try and hang her former husband out to dry with the police department's dirty laundry. Well, just let them try, because she would not let them get away with it. If there was a way she could throw a legal wrench into it, she would. Deep down she also knew that Hajime would not allow himself to be put in any compromising positions. He was too smart for that. She also knew that he was the best that NMMPD had to offer. He was honest, honorable, thorough, unflappable, incorruptible and dedicated. Her heart ached when it hit her how much time this new position would require. He would have less time with his boys.

Her eyes were glued to his face as he spoke. She was so proud of the way he handled things, mincing no words –_contrary to police procedure_-, telling the truth –_intercept leaked by the police_-, not hiding a thing _–the public deserves to know, that is why we are releasing the complete unedited footage_-. Then he did what he could to spare the loved ones the trauma that was sure to come, by reminding everyone that the content was not for minors, and insisting that a woman leave with her small children.

The lights dimmed and the video played. Tokio riveted her attention to the screen, focusing on the images now playing. It was footage of officers on their way to the intercept, a woman being murdered, a sword wielding man, officers being cut down like grass beneath a lawnmower. It was a nightmare of Umagoe Fujimori's making; all because he wanted personal glory. It made Tokio sick to her stomach. She was glad she hadn't eaten anything this morning, or she'd be back in the bathroom on her knees.

All the damning evidence was out in the open for everyone to see. Drinking on duty, bragging, no warrants, injecting illegal drugs, an innocent civilian killed in cold blood, a cop lifting a gun to another officer's face and pulling the trigger. As far as Tokio was concerned, this type of intercept was a festering wound that needed to be lanced and drained. This footage was proof positive of AMP or METAL use by MPD officers. Not only that, but it showed the dark side of the drug, when the officers actually turned their weapons on their brothers in arms slaughtering them without hesitation. These types of events needed to be exposed, if the department was ever to clean up its act and become a trustworthy protector of the people.

This was going to be a night mare for the DOJ attorneys to sort out. She was very happy that she was only one of the underlings here in New Meiji, and not the lead attorney. Being undercover for her brother might actually have a benefit or two after all, she decided. There were going to be a lot of wrongful death suits brought up for this one. She could feel it.

Hajime was back at the podium once the lights came back up. He masterfully got everyone's attention by simply causing feedback on the microphone in front of him. Tokio gave a little snort at his antics, and hugged the small pillow that smelled of his cigarettes a little closer to her heart.

_"This is a composite sketch of the suspect based on descriptions given to the police"  
_  
The picture on the screen caught her eye, something familiar, the hair, the face, the voice. Oh..gads…it was the waiter from the Sunshine Café. What was his name? Ken? She could hardly believe that he was someone who would kill indiscriminately, not after seeing him in the diner. He went after the criminals, not the innocents. She would have to talk to Hajime when he got home to see what he had to say about this development.

She couldn't be more proud of her former husband as he outlined the steps that would be taken to stop the drug use inside the department. She would gladly volunteer to prosecute those officers who possessed, sold, or used. She startled, brows rising, when Hajime reveal that there was more to it than just a glory run by one rogue officer. There were payments made. That meant that there was much deeper, more insidious penetration into the internal workings of the police department. The syndicates, yakuza, corrupt politicians? Throw a dart, she thought because it could be one or all. Then a reporter asked the same question that she had, who was responsible. Her former husband provided the answer, the Nezume Syndicate, a name that caused an involuntary shiver to run down the prosecutor's back.

A thought slammed through her. Now that he was charged with cleaning up the police force, his life was in just as much danger, as hers, if not more. Now every corrupt element in the city would be gunning for him from corrupt law officers and politicians to syndicate thugs and yakuza members. The blood drained from her face at the realization. He hadn't asked for any of this, either, but she had. She had knowingly painted a target on herself by begging her brother to let her be his spy in New Meiji.

Hajime was a strong man, but he couldn't be everywhere at once. There would be times when his children would be as vulnerable, as they were when Yaso was alive. She knew she wanted to be his wife again, but the decision was really up to him. He and his children would still be in danger because of her, but she and his children would, like-wise, be in danger because of his job. This made a difference. Maybe she could help him; maybe she could help keep the boys safe when he couldn't be present. She was trained in the use of firearms, even though it hadn't protected her from a car bombing.

She was quickly torn from her thoughts when she heard the next question posed by a reporter.

_"Is it true you are having an affair with a Department of Justice employee?"  
_  
Tokio paled. The only person who had seen her and Hajime together…oh…everyone at the Sunshine Café had, including the first responders, both police and medics. She was half dressed then, but Ken draped his jacket over her shoulders in an attempt to keep her as modest as possible. But Umagoe was in Hajime's office yesterday, and he did make a poorly veiled insinuation about the two of them. It wasn't difficult to see where the blame for this one lay. At least the guy was dead. Good riddance, she thought in an uncharacteristic, uncharitable display of emotion. She usually wasn't so quick to be both jury and sentencing judge.

A cold chill went down her back when it was suggested that perhaps this intercept had been a test to find out whether cops trussed up with drugs could do a better job apprehending criminals than those that weren't users. Hadn't Hajime and that old armory master, his name escaped her at the moment, talked about this very controversy? The old man seemed to support the idea, while her former husband was emphatically against it.

As soon as Hajime left the press conference, the prosecutor clicked off the streaming video. She had no desire to hear Uramura yammer on and make excuses for what happened, or lay the blame on some innocent police department employee. The implications of what was revealed at the press conference needed to be discussed with Hajime. So that would wait until he got home.

The attorney needed to think of more practical matters. She still needed to slog her way through the aftermath of the last two days. First, she needed a car. She would stick to her favorite, a Honda Accord in black. But getting one would be tricky. She couldn't order it on-line, because it might be tampered with at the dealership. Surely, there were things such as a delayed detonation in car bombs. She could give someone access to an account, to buy one off the lot for her, driving it away immediately. The problem with that was where to store the thing once she took possession. She had no secure garage space. How could she drive it to work? It would just be targeted again. Maybe, she should buy a house with its own garage. Then there was the headache of selling the place once she left New Meiji. The assignment for her brother was never intended to be permanent. This was too much for her still over taxed brain to contemplate at the moment.

Her heart sank when she remembered what was in her car. Besides her purse, cell phone and all her ID, she also lost that special dress she bought while shopping with Tae. Not only that, she lost the perfume that Hajime liked. Well, since she tried on the dress at the store, she could go on-line and order one just like it, and have it delivered to her office, the perfume, too.

But she was still tired. She thought about her former husband, who had to be exhausted by now. But Hajime was Hajime and always functioned perfectly regardless of how tired he might be. With him it was mind over body, push on for the good of the cause. At least that was the way it was back in Meiji 1. Maybe a nap on the couch would be good for her, or maybe she should check out Hajime's kitchen and see what he had on hand. She was a decent cook, and he would need to eat when he returned. She smiled to herself, thankful that she had her memories back, because she wouldn't have to ask him what he liked to eat. She already knew.


	3. Chapter 3 Tour of the Wolf's Lair

**The Day After **

**Chapter 3 Tour of the Wolf's Liar**

It's only called snooping when you do it without an invitation.

The nap won out, but afterward Tokio decided to do a little exploring. Hajime told her to make herself at home, so it shouldn't feel like she was snooping around if she took a self-guided tour. The first place she decided to examine was his kitchen. He would need to eat when he got home, and the attorney was fairly confident that his children would be in tow. She'd been in it once today to make him some coffee. It was a very easy task because the coffee maker was already filled with grounds and water. He must have set it up during the night with the intention of making coffee to take with him, since an insulated bottle sat on the counter next to the machine. He probably just didn't count on going into work as early has he did. Tokio made sure to check how much coffee he put in the filter, so she would be able to make another pot just the way he liked it.

She remembered that her former husband had fairly simple tastes. Chicken was okay as long as it was white meat, not dark. Don't bother to put pork on the table, unless you intended to eat all of it yourself. He preferred beef steak, cooked rare or medium rare. He liked cooked eggs, and would eat most anything made with eggs as the main ingredient, as long as the eggs were cooked. The smart chef never cracked a raw egg into his donburi, even though the broth might be boiling. He didn't like sweets, but on special occasions he indulged her, or at least he used to, by buying a few European style chocolates. But his favorite food, hands down, was soba, ramen or udon, soba being the first on the list. The man had never met a noodle that he didn't like, at least back in Meiji 1.

Peeking into his fridge was the first item on her agenda. She checked the freezer section to find several packages of multiple servings of beef tenderloin steak, nothing surprising there, since he wasn't the only one in the household who needed to be fed. There was also a bag of individually wrapped chicken breasts, similar to the ones that she bought at Costco, the discount bulk food emporium. One of the boys must like those; either that, or he wanted to provide some variety to their diet. She liked having each piece of chicken wrapped, since it kept them fresh longer. The attorney noticed that everything in the freezer section was as neatly stacked as possible. She mentally noted there was still room in the freezer for more items. There were also several cold packs such as you would apply to keep an injury from swelling. Now days there were cold therapy strips that did the job perhaps even better, but sometimes using an old fashioned gel ice pack just made a person feel better.

The light inside the main refrigerator revealed an almost empty white box, causing the attorney to frown. Providing fresh food for children should be the most important item on a person's shopping agenda. Fresh fruits and vegetables provided the most nutrition. Due to hothouse technology, acquiring a wide variety of these items was no longer dependent on the season. Adding to her mental inventory she took note of the one gallon of milk, not enough for two boys; a half-full carton of large eggs; a bundle of what appeared to be mustard greens, long overdue for cooking. She resolved to wash and steam the ones still edible, immediately. There was also a container of ground coffee. It didn't escape her that her former husband had added a new drink to his menu in this century.

She couldn't fault Hajime for the near empty fridge. He was a single parent, who worked long hours, and Tokio had no doubt that he did the best he could for his children. Shopping and cooking took time. It was her fault that his boys were farmed out at a relative's last night, her presence in his home only adding to his work related tasks.

Closing the refrigerator door, she realized that someone would have to go shopping. Hajime would be too tired when he got home, so there was no way she would impose on him. It wasn't safe for her to leave the house by herself. She couldn't ask her secretary, due to having to keep her location on a need to know basis for now. Her former husband probably had someone he could call on for the task. She would make up a list. After opening several drawers under the kitchen counter, she found one that contained some notepads, pencils and pens. The neatness of each drawer was very familiar to her. All the storage spaces in their home in the Bunkyo Ward had been similarly treated. Paper and pencil in hand, she began to make a list of what she thought they needed to buy, if he wanted her to cook for his family.

As Tokio wrote down fresh grocery items, especially ones she wanted for the boys, butterflies of anticipation fluttered in her chest. The thought of being reunited with Tsutomu and Tsuyoshi was beyond words. Finding Hajime in this era was almost unbelievable, but the fact that he had two of their three children with him was incredible. He told her that Tsutomu was the name of one of his boys, and she just assumed that the name of the other would be the same as it was in Meiji 1.

His boys would not recognize her as their mother, of that she could be sure, but she was. From the time her secretary told her about Hajime's family tragedy, she knew. They were her precious children from Meiji 1 brought into this world by another woman. Tokio would never try to take Yaso's place; the woman was the only mother that the boys knew. But the attorney would, in secret, watch out for them and help them in any way she could for the rest of her life.

The next stop was a cupboard that looked as though it might be a pantry since it stretched from floor to ceiling. Inside were boxes of several kinds of fortified whole grain cereal, quite appropriate breakfast food for growing children. There was a box of instant miso packets. In Tokio's opinion it was better to buy fresh miso paste. When she hadn't seen any in the refrigerator, she put it on the shopping list. The stuff kept forever in the fridge, and mixing a spoonful of it with hot water made better miso stock than any instant pack, even if you skipped using konbu and bonita flakes. There were several unopened containers of coffee. It appeared that Hajime had no desire to run out of that, since he had so many extra in stock. Japanese green tea was conspicuous with its absence. That was something else that she would add to her shopping list. There was also a sealed bag of short-grained sushi rice, a staple food even in homes of noodle eaters.

The attorney wasn't surprised to see more packages of instant soba and ramen than she had ever seen outside a grocery store's instant noodle aisle. She smirked. Looks like her former husband's tastes hadn't changed one bit in the past two hundred years. During their married life, she occasionally teased him about how much he loved to eat soba. But it was always done in a loving way. It was interesting how her memories were returning and confirming certain things in her present life, such as her knowing without being told that he was a very light sleeper.

Satisfied with her assessment of his kitchen, she tore the top page off the notepad, leaving the shopping list on the counter and putting the pad and pencil back in the drawer before wandering down the hallway that ran through the middle of the house. There were doorways along the hall, three on each side. She knew which one was the guest bedroom, since that is where she spent the night. She didn't remember walking there under her own power last night, so she guessed that he must have carried her. It was the first room on her right just past the living room. Across the hall from it to the left was the main bathroom. She walked past those doors, opening the one to the room next to the bath, finding it almost empty. It appeared as though it should be a child's room. Stepping inside she noticed a door that looked like it opened to another room. It actually led to a bathroom that had a connecting door on the other side which led to another bedroom, this one definitely inhabited by a couple of children. Tokio assumed that once Hajime's boys were old enough, perhaps each would have his own bedroom, one on each side of the Jack and Jill bath. The empty bedroom could even be used as a nursery, if need be. Now why on earth would she have that thought, she asked herself.

Exiting the bedroom occupied by his boys through the door that led to the main hallway, she was confronted with a closed door directly opposite. She had the feeling that his bedroom was located behind that door, and for some reason she did not feel comfortable breaching the sanctity of his room, regardless of what he said about making herself at home. In Tokio's mind under normal circumstances a single woman simply didn't enter a man's bedroom, regardless of whether he was home or not. On the same side of the hall next to what she assumed was Hajime's bedroom, there was a door standing ajar, revealing what was clearly an office with a desk and plenty of bookshelves. To the attorney the open door was akin to an invitation to enter.

The first thing Tokio did once inside the room was to scan the bookshelves. There seemed to be three main kinds of books. Many were about kendo and swords. Some of these titles dealt with appraising antiques. This didn't surprise the attorney at all. Back in Meiji, her former husband had free access to a large storehouse of antique weapons and was often asked to evaluate and give an appraisal of katana, wakizashi, and tanto.

Hajime had been the Captain of the Shinsengumi's third squad, and one of the three top swordsmen in the entire organization, only Okita and Nakagura were of the same caliber as her former husband. During his time in the Tokyo MPD, he'd won competitions. She knew he was the same man now as he was then, only some circumstances were different. He'd had children with his first wife; this wasn't the case back in Meiji 1.

Not surprising, most of his books were police journals, forensic science manuals, and books about abnormal and criminal psychology and related topics. Tokio gave herself a mental kick in the head when she found her mind thinking things such as, 'there is enough room for another desk in this office', and 'there is enough empty shelf space for all my law books and cook books'.

She smiled when she saw the volumes on parenting and child development. There were also several titles having to do with 'feeding your child right'. Some of the books on parenting and nutrition even had strips of paper inserted to mark a page. Tokio took one of them off the shelf, flipping to one of the marked pages.

It warmed the attorney's heart to see the effort the stoic police officer was putting into raising his children. The marked section explained the benefits of eating green, leafy vegetables with suggestions on not only how to choose the freshest, but also how to prepare them in tasty ways. No wonder the fridge had those greens, speaking of which, she needed to cook them before they self-destructed. It was all information that Tokio knew, having been trained by her mother in all the home skills needed by a modern woman, who also had a toe in traditional Japanese culture. Her parent's goal for her was to become a competent wife, mother, and household manager, not one of the best government prosecutors in the country, as happened to be the case. Tokio had long ago abandoned all thoughts of having a husband and children; that is until today when little threads of ideas started assaulting her mind.

Hajime's house was fairly spacious, more room than necessary for his family of three, but it was Spartan in appointment with only the most basic of furniture, and then only what appeared to be absolutely necessary. The walls were bereft of any sort of adornment, not surprising for a household that lacked a female presence.

The main living area with the front entrance was at the end of the hall towards the garage, opposite the kitchen. It contained a sofa with a low table in front of it, a small end table, a large screen television and several cushions meant for seating. There was also a low cabinet with doors below the large screen. Because of a divider wall, the cooking part of the kitchen was hidden from the living room, but the eating area next to the kitchen was visible, making the living room area feel larger, even though it was plenty spacious in its own right.

She'd been too out of it last night to take much notice of the inside of the garage, so after leaving his office, she decided to take a look in there before she cleaned and cooked the mustard greens. At the end of the main hall between the living and eating areas was the door to the garage. She noticed that it had a security pad beside it. She realized that if the security system on this inner door to the garage was activated, her self-guided home tour was over.

Hajime must have anticipated her inquisitive nature, because the door opened when she tried it. Taking the one step down into his large garage, she gave the place a quick scan. On the wall opposite the garage doors there was a workbench with cabinets both above and below. The surface of the work area was as neat as a pin, all of the tools tucked away; she presumed in the cabinets. Tokio wasn't surprised. He was the same way when they were married, nothing out of place, everything always put away.

In addition to the two large doors for vehicles and the one to the inside of the house, there was another one. It almost looked like a closet door, but there were cupboard doors just down from it, like you would put on storage shelves that were installed over a stairwell to a basement.

Curiosity got the best of her. Carefully opening the mystery door, she cautiously peeked into the darkness. There had to be a light switch around somewhere. When Tokio stepped back, she noticed a switch on the adjoining wall. She flipped it and was rewarded by bright light. It was a stairway just as she suspected. She had to consider for a moment whether negotiating the stairs was such a good idea. Her body was still achy, even after her nap, and that swollen knee was certainly going to protest both the walk down and the walk back up.

Perhaps if she was careful, she could manage. What did that physical therapist say on that health news segment she saw last week? Up with the good and down with the bad? So one step at a time, her leg with the swollen knee going first, she made the trip down. Fortunately, the light switch at the bottom of the steps was obvious. She switched it to the on position, bathing a large room to the left of the bottom step in a bright, but not glaring light.

Tokio smiled at the sight before her. Hajime had his own dojo. One wall was mirror lined…there was a bench on another wall, and a rack that held protective body padding and head gear. Next to it was a wall bracket with various sizes of shinai and bokken. The flooring looked like bamboo, but she was sure it was some sort of composite that wouldn't scratch and would retain its shine under the most ardent use. It was amazing and so like Hajime to have a special place like this in his home.

When she flipped off the dojo lights, and turned to go back up the stairs she noticed another door. It was opposite from the bottom step and Tokio wondered how she missed it before. She guessed it was to a storage room. She almost didn't open it, but there was a soft breeze at her back that seemed to push her forward, compelling her hand to reach for the knob and turn it. He must have a ventilation system down here, she thought to herself.

The door opened with a click, revealing neatly stacked storage boxes. "_Make yourself at home,_" he'd said. With that in mind, and as if some force was urging her on, she carefully opened the lid of the top box in one of the stacks, peeking in, only to freeze in place when she saw the contents, realizing what she was viewing.

Gads.

These had to be Yaso-san's personal belongings.

A picture frame lay face down on top. Gently, she turned it over, revealing a photo of a woman, a very beautiful woman, with kind eyes and a warm smile. The attorney knew there was only one person this could be.

Tokio felt like she'd been struck in the stomach. Her breaths became shorter, a feeling of grief gripped at her, tears welled as she remembered exactly how the woman died, and how she had protected the children entrusted to her care.

Carefully, the attorney turned the picture back over, leaving it how she found it. Then with shaking hands Tokio replaced the lid on the box, closed the closet door and turned towards the stairs, trying to get a grip on her emotions. Although, not as fragile as last night, she knew that the events of the last two days were just below the surface. Perhaps her reaction was due to almost losing her own life; perhaps it was because she knew how devastated Hajime had been by the loss of his wife; perhaps it was because of the little boys who no longer had the love of the only mother that they'd known.

With a heavy heart Tokio trudged slowly back up the stairs, one step at a time, her injured knee protesting with each step she took. Good thing there was a cold pack in the freezer, her knee was going to need it. Now if only there was something to heal the pain she felt for this little family who had been broken beyond measure by the permanent loss of their mother, and the temporary loss of their father to alcohol.

**To see what happens next, please see the Gumi Reloaded fanfic, The Wolf at Work, that**** is posted on ffnet. **


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